


Writer's Block

by it_rains_and_it_pours



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, M/M, Romance, cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 03:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5359250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/it_rains_and_it_pours/pseuds/it_rains_and_it_pours
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I really need to kiss someone,” Frank sighed, flopping back down on Gerard’s bed. “Do you think Mikey would do it if we paid him?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Writer's Block

It had been just another rainy September Saturday with them both holed up in Gerard’s bedroom, listening to an assortment of angsty teen bands and arguing about who made a better Batman. It was totally Christian Bale, by the way. Gerard knew nothing about these things, no matter how many comic books he might be in possession of. 

After their traditional bickering, they’d both settled down in comfortable silence as Dangerous! hummed from Gerard’s ancient stereo system, shouting about not being part of the crowd, while Frank splayed himself out on Gerard’s bed, sniffing the familiar charcoal and dusty coffee smell of his as he stared dolefully out the window. The leaves on the trees lining the predictable suburban street were just starting to fade to gold, fluttering wetly in the rainy wind and being swept, bedraggled, up into the murky sky or into the overflowing gutters. The persistent patter of rain against the glass was gently soothing in the silence. 

Frank had been friends with Gerard for long enough that silences weren’t awkward ones, simply silences- they were both comfortable enough with each other not to feel the need to constantly make exaggerated small-talk. They could talk for hours into the night about politics and art shit Frank would never quite understand in the light of day, but that didn’t mean they needed to talk all the time. Sometimes, silences said a lot more than words, anyway. 

Apart from anything else, both of their hobbies were sort of silent ones anyway- as usual, Gerard was hunched over his desk, drawing earnestly, inky black hair tucked messily behind his ears as his pencil flew across the paper, while Frank was lounging on Gerard’s bed with his pen poised over a blank page; normally, when Gerard drew, Frank would write. 

He’d loved to write since he was a kid; stories, poems, songs, essays…you name it. But for once, Frank was not scribbling so furiously away in his battered blue notebook that ink splattered his nose, or stealing Gerard’s laptop to type his stories and chapters up- instead, he was still splayed out across the unmade covers of his best friend’s bed, groaning in frustration. 

“This sucks,” he whined, punching Gerard’s pillow after a moment of angsty wriggling. 

“What sucks?” Gerard asked without looking up. 

“Goddamn motherfucking sonofabitch writer’s block, that’s what! It’s the worst thing ever!” Frank exclaimed, sitting bolt upright and throwing Gerard’s Nightmare Before Christmas pillow across the room in anguish. 

Gerard blinked and his hand froze momentarily as the pillow soared past his head, narrowly missing his drawing before hitting the wall. 

“…And that’s the pillow’s fault how?” he turned round briefly to quirk an eyebrow, before shuffling a little in his seat and returning to his drawing while Frank started bunching up his duvet angrily. 

“Ugh, don’t play clever, Gee. Don’t you ever get…I don’t know, art block?” Frank groaned, flicking Mr. Sunshine, Gerard’s ancient, lop-eared toy bunny and scowling irately. 

“Not really,” Gerard shrugged, head bowed over his drawing. 

“Bastard,” Frank huffed, sighing dramatically and staring dismally out at the rain. “This is going to ruin my career as an author, you know.”

“Frankie, we’re fourteen,” Gerard pointed out without looking round. 

“What’s your point?” Frank demanded, and Gerard sighed a little. It wasn’t a bad sigh, though- Gerard had a lot of different sighs, and Frank could read every one off by heart; this one was the vaguely frustrated, but mostly fond sigh, so Frank was okay, Gerard wasn’t going to kill him or anything. 

“Nothing,” Gerard shook his head, smiling a little. “Look, why don’t you tell me the problem and I’ll see if I can help?” he offered reasonably, turning back round and starting to carefully shade his drawing. 

Frank sighed. “Okay. Well, you know ‘Dragons and Delinquents’, the story I’ve been writing for ages? Yeah, well, there’s this scene where Miranda and Evan have to kiss, and I don’t know how to write that because…Well, I’ve never been kissed.”

Gerard dropped his pencil and turned round, eyes wide. “You haven’t?”

Frank squirmed and blushed. “No. Why, have you?”

“No!” Gerard squeaked, his voice reaching alarmingly high decibels. “Um, of course not! I just assumed you would have been.”

“Why the hell would you assume that?!” Frank yelped incredulously. “I’m a nerdy midget with attitude issues!”

“Girls dig that,” Gerard shrugged. 

Frank raised his eyebrows sceptically.

“Okay, the attitude bit, anyway,” Gerard backtracked, still sketching feverishly. He hesitated for a second. “And um, anyway, you’ve got really pretty eyes.”

“Pretty?” Frank snorted.

Gerard looked uncomfortable. “Yeah. Like, melted honey or something. Um.” He suddenly went bright red and bent over his drawing.

Frank felt a little perplexed, but didn’t think too much of it- Gerard was weird, sometimes even as weird as Frank. For several more moments, the room was bathed in silence- there wasn’t even the scratch of Gerard’s pencil, which was confusing, because he was bent over his sketchpad like he was drawing.

Frank frowned for a moment, trying to figure it out, before giving up and sighing heavily, flicking his pen off his notebook and somewhere in the direction of Gerard’s CD collection in frustration. “Gerard,” he whined petulantly, and Gerard jumped, like he’d been somewhere else altogether and had forgotten Frank was even there. 

“What?” he mumbled, his voice muffled from the hair that fell over his face.

“I need to be able to write about kissing, how am I going to do it if I haven’t even kissed someone before?” 

“I don’t know,” Gerard shrugged quietly. “Uh. Just write about fireworks and goosebumps and all that other cheesy stuff.”

“I don’t want my story to be cheesy!” Frank protested.

“Well, I don’t know, sorry Frankie,” Gerard mumbled, still not turning around. 

“I really need to kiss someone,” Frank sighed, flopping back down on Gerard’s bed. “Do you think Mikey would do it if we paid him?” 

Gerard made the funny snorting snuffling sound he always made when he was trying not to laugh, and turned round, though he still didn’t look properly at Frank. “I don’t think so, somehow,” he said eventually, clearly trying to keep a straight face. "He'd probably vomit into your mouth if you managed to get that close."

Frank sighed dramatically. “Then who? I don’t know any girls, apart from Ray’s sister, and she’s really mannish. Her arms, seriously dude- so hairy!”

“She’s also twenty two,” Gerard pointed out, picking up his pencil and returning to his drawing. “And, Frank- she’s Ray’s sister. He would axe-murder you.”

“Details, details,” Frank sighed, picking at a thread on Gerard’s duvet. “Seriously though, Gerard,” he leant up on his arms and surveyed Gerard intently. “I just have to know what it’s like to kiss someone to be able to write this chapter. Why haven’t I been kissed, Gerard?”

“I don’t know,” Gerard sighed, putting his pencil down. “It’s not that great, anyway.”

It took Frank a moment to realise what his best friend had just said. 

“Wait!” Frank exclaimed, sitting bolt-upright and staring at Gerard accusingly. “I thought you said you’d never been kissed either!”

“Um,” Gerard squirmed uncomfortably, definitely avoiding Frank’s gaze now.

“Oh. I mean, I know most people in our year have done the whole saliva-swapping deal, but I thought at least you hadn’t too.” Frank was surprised to find he was genuinely hurt- maybe it was ‘cause he and Gerard always did everything together, told each other everything. And this time, Gerard hadn’t. 

“I thought you’d at least tell me,” Frank mumbled, suddenly unable to look at Gerard properly. He focused on his hands instead, chipping the black nail polish off his thumbnail. 

“Sorry…?” Gerard curved it into a question, making Frank roll his eyes and look up briefly, jaw still tense. 

The guilty look on Gerard’s face, the knowledge that he’d been left in the dark by his best friend, hurt more than Frank expected. It stabbed at his gut and crawled under his skin like betrayal. He frowned, annoyed and confused at how wounded he felt.

“What’s it like, anyway?” Frank asked suddenly, the words sounding harsher than he’d intended. He looked at Gerard, who blushed a little and put down his pen. "Tell Auntie Frankie!" he added in some half-hearted attempt at his usual attitude, but it just sounded out of place and awkward, and he couldn't quite muster up the shit-eating grin to go with it, so just ended up grimacing. 

“Well…” Gerard shrugged uncomfortably. “I don’t know.” He looked at Frank properly, piercing green apologies and bitten lips. “I really am sorry I didn’t tell you, Frankie,” he said quietly, eyes full of sincerity. “I didn’t think it would matter.”

Frank struggled with himself for a second, pushing the hurt down firmly. “It’s fine,” he forced a smile, because Gerard was right- it shouldn’t matter. It didn't. It was just a kiss. Determinedly, Frank pulled his thoughts back to what had led them to this conversation in the first place. “So, what is it like?” he repeated, looking at Gerard.

The latter shrugged uncomfortably again, making Frank sigh in frustration. 

"Well, I don't know!" Gerard said defensively, picking up his pencil again. 

“You know more than I do,” Frank pointed out. He jiggled up and down impatiently on the bed. “Come on, Gee, please. I really need to get this chapter written, it’s killing me. Just describe it.”

Gerard bit his lip, contemplating. “It was…kind of slimy,” he conceded eventually, decidedly avoiding Frank’s expectant gaze. 

“Slimy?” Frank repeated incredulously. He stared at Gerard. “That doesn’t sound great.”

“It wasn’t,” Gerard admitted, blushing and fiddling with his pencil. 

“Then why do people do it?” Frank exclaimed. 

“Maybe it’s different with someone you really like,” Gerard said quietly. He glanced up at Frank then, who caught a glimpse of unreadable green before Gerard retreated back behind his hair. 

Frank slumped on the bed. “Huh.”

“In fact, I’m pretty sure it is,” Gerard said, so quietly Frank wasn’t sure he was meant to hear at all. 

“Who did you kiss, anyway?” Frank burst out, wincing at how the words sounded almost jealous in the suddenly uncomfortable atmosphere of pattering grey rain against the window and tense silence. 

Gerard winced too, and became very interested in his pencil sharpener.

“Gerard?” Frank narrowed his eyes, heart suddenly thumping. “Who was it?”

“Ella Leister,” Gerard mumbled.

Frank’s eyes widened. “As in, The Ella Leister, most popular girl in our year?”

Gerard glanced guiltily up at Frank and nodded. 

“How?” Frank blurted out, completely surprised. 

“The Christmas party,” Gerard muttered reluctantly. “She was drunk.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it, though?” Frank demanded again before he could stop himself, unable to keep the hurt out of his voice this time. He looked seriously at Gerard’s bowed head and guilty stance. “You always tell me everything,” he said softly, pained. 

Gerard looked up then, all almond-shaped hazel swirled eyes and guilt. “I’m sorry,” he said again quietly. He studied his charcoal stained hands for a moment. “Like I said, it wasn’t that great anyway. I didn’t much like it.”

“Why?” Frank asked, looking intently at his best friend. Both story writing and artwork lay forgotten in their respective places, but the rain continued to roll listlessly down the glass, sleek and clear and salty. “I mean, she’s got to be the prettiest girl in school.”

“I know,” Gerard shrugged helplessly, twisting his hands. He looked at Frank. “Maybe she just wasn’t...wasn't what I wanted,” he finished quietly. 

Frank was about to open his mouth and respond, but before he could do so, Gerard spoke briskly, changing the subject with ease- although his eyes didn’t quite meet Frank’s when he spoke. “So, uh, any thoughts about what you’re gunna do about the writer’s block?”

Frank huffed out a sigh and flopped down on Gerard’s mattress properly, confusion tangling in his stomach. He frowned. “I don’t know. I don’t really feel like writing now anyway,” he muttered, staring at the rain dribbling down the window. 

“Sure you do,” Gerard encouraged, sounding a little guilty. “Look, like I said before, just write about all the stuff that’s meant to happen- fireworks and electricity and all that. Maybe that is what happens.”

“Maybe it is, but I have to know- I don’t want my story to be clichéd, I want it to be realistic,” Frank protested. He shook his head, then suddenly stopped, a thrill of genius running down his spine. He sat up straight and looked straight at his best friend who was hunched over his drawing, expression earnest. “Gerard!” 

Gerard turned round, charcoal smeared up his face from where he must have rubbed his eye and forgotten his fingers were covered in charcoal dust. “What?” he asked slowly, dusting the powder from his long fingertips and looking suspiciously at Frank’s gleeful face. 

“I can kiss you!” 

Gerard spluttered and turned fiery scarlet. “W-what?”

“So I know what it’s like and I can write my story properly, cure the writer’s block! Please, Gee? To make up for not telling me before?” Frank widened his eyes, pleading, suddenly anxious. He could feel his pulse fluttering under the skin where he was clenching his hands in nervous anticipation, and his stomach was twisting in knots. 

Gerard’s lip was caught in his teeth as he stared properly at Frank for the first time since the whole subject had been brought up. There was an odd, unreadable expression in his eyes; one Frank didn’t recognise, and this disconcerted him, because after being friends for so long, Frank could usually read Gerard as easily as one of his own stories. 

“Are you just messing about, Frankie?” he asked uncertainly, frowning as he surveyed the smaller. He suddenly looked very vulnerable, as though he thought Frank was about to laugh at him. 

Frank shook his head fervently, suddenly very aware of his heartbeat and how it burnt at his cheeks. He wasn’t quite sure how they’d got to this, but the atmosphere in the room suddenly seemed to press around them, intense and silent. 

“Frankie?” Gerard’s voice was timid, scared, eyes wide. 

“Come here,” Frank said nervously, shifting back on the bed to make room for Gerard. His stomach was twisted in tight knots of adrenaline and when he swallowed, the roof of his mouth was dry. It was almost like the feeling he got before exams, and a little like the one he got whenever Gerard slung an arm round him or pulled him into a smoky-scented hug. Jittery, terrified, wound up, with the smallest hint of tentative, warmth. 

Gerard was looking at him, eyes flickering from Frank to the floor nervously, and he had this unsure, anxious smile as though he wasn’t quite daring to believe Frank was being serious. 

As Gerard fidgeted nervously on the bed in front of him, sitting cross-legged, his badly-cut hair falling in his eyes that were smudged where he’d accidentally smeared charcoal on them, Frank caught a whiff of Gerard’s smoky, soft, incense smell- and something suddenly tugged tenderly at his chest. 

That’s when he realised something huge. 

He wanted to kiss the anxious, pale boy in front of him, wanted to kiss his best friend. He wanted to kiss Gerard, so badly it almost hurt. 

So he swallowed the butterflies trying to escape from his throat and leant forwards, trying to ignore the feverish pound of his heart. He watched Gerard’s eyes widen in surprise and then flutter closed, long black lashes against sallow skin as Frank shakily tilted his head a little to the side, and pressed his mouth nervously against the other boy’s. 

Gerard’s lips weren’t rough or dry, the way they sometimes looked when he nibbled anxiously at them- they were gently warm and soft, so soft Frank almost couldn’t feel their outline against his own. Tentatively, he pressed closer, feeling Gerard let out a trembling exhale into his mouth, hot and terrified, before Frank cautiously started to work his lips against his, feeling warm honey pool in his stomach as Gerard began to kiss back, shyly, tenderly.

Sparks rocketed up Frank’s spine when Gerard’s tongue timidly licked against his lower lip, and something deep inside Frank tugged, wanting more. Without thinking, he slid his arms around Gerard’s soft waist, pulling him closer and feeling the tentative, scary, wonderful feel of someone else’s body, mouth, lips against his, their heartbeats racing each other. 

After a long moment that could have been a whole day or half a second, they broke apart, breathing shallowly, eyes wide. Frank could feel the pound pound pound of his heart behind his ribs, and wondered if Gerard’s was doing the same. He took in Gerard’s flushed cheeks, slightly swollen lips and vibrant green eyes, and felt his stomach somersault, because somehow, after knowing Gerard for so long and thinking he knew everything about him, he really, really didn’t.

Gerard was dropping his gaze now, obviously not on the same wavelength as Frank, who felt elated in the scariest and best kind of way- Gerard’s eyes were laced with immeasurable sadness as he shuffled backwards on the bed. Frank stared at him beseechingly, and suddenly got it. 

He needed to show Gerard that the experimental kiss was more than just that, that it really had meant something, so he scooted forwards before Gerard could escape and leaned in once more, heart fluttering in anticipation. 

This time, the warmth of their connected mouths felt easier, hotter, as Frank pushed his hands up through Gerard’s messy hair and melted into the warm, silken pressure of the kiss. 

When they broke apart this time, they were both smiling ridiculously wide, ducking their heads. Frank bit his lip to try and get his smile under control, feeling his belly flip again as Gerard blushed, looking away so as his eyelashes shadowed his cheek, long and dark. 

“It is different,” Gerard blurted suddenly, cheeks still bright red as the smile played around his lips. He fiddled with the duvet and didn’t look up. 

“What is?” Frank asked, still grinning in the ridiculous way he just couldn’t seem to help. 

“Kissing someone you like,” Gerard mumbled, ducking his head- but Frank could see the smile spread across his face, and grinned even more widely. Gerard looked up. “So, what was it? Fireworks and dragons and all that cliché stuff you didn’t want to write about?” he smiled shyly. 

Frank thought about the kiss; the shy lips and trembling hands, the powerful tug at the pit of his belly, the way sparks had nudged at his spine and now he felt ready to implode with happiness. 

“No,” he replied eventually, smiling. “It was much better.”

And as Gerard leant in once more, Frank had to concede that maybe writer’s block wasn’t so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on 12/12/2012. Comments are very welcome!


End file.
